| There is a helpless need for human touch
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| We are smashed beneath
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| On hands and knees, pleading
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| And it’s easier to look away
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| And it’s easier to believe what they say
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| That you might see my side and for a minute give in
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| That we are weak and we are suffering
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| That you might see my side and for a minute give in
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| There is a driving need to stamp us out
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| We are made to be ignorant and quiet
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| As we give it up for nothing
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| And we leave it to be taken away
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| That you might see my side and for a minute give in
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| That we are weak and we are suffering
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| That you might see my side and for a minute give in |